


Laugh until the sky shatters

by bellofthetolppl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Protective!Bellamy, aka my brand, aka where Bellamy gets stabbed, following season 3 episode 2, so basically it's hurt comfort with lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 23:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellofthetolppl/pseuds/bellofthetolppl
Summary: Bellamy still gets stabbed in 3x02 but the others find him when he's crawling on the ground trying to find Clarke, bleeding out. They take him home and all he wants to do is leave. Except, he can't. Fluff and Angst ensue and Miller is there to witness it all.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 202





	Laugh until the sky shatters

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I really have been in the mood to write some hurt/comfort (as usually is the case) so ...this happened. Let me know what you guys think! Comments and kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @jasperjoordan

Though Miller’s seen and experienced Bellamy’s stubbornness firsthand, he’s still surprised when their former rebel leader is not only able to pull a fight but needed to actually be restrained from all four sides on the cot. 

The gaping wound on his leg and the blood covering half his face seemed to be but a minor inconvenience for him.

“Dammit, stop this!” Octavia snaps holding his left arm fuming just as much as he was.

“We need to keep him still!” Abby orders as she comes to cover up his bleeding leg just as Kane gets hit in the face by Bellamy’s flailing arm which in turn makes the councilmen curse angrily.

“Let me go! I need to get to her!”.

For anyone else who didn’t know Bellamy Blake and his undying yet unexpressed love for Clarke Griffin, this behavior might seem insane but to everyone in the room-Kane who up until two seconds ago was gripping his right wrist, Monty who was in charge of the left and Miller who was trying to hold his ankles still and even Abby and Octavia who failed to talk some sense into him, this was more or less normal.

They all knew the simple truth-Bellamy wasn’t really bleeding from his leg-there was a bigger, bottomless hole in his heart which formed when Clarke left camp. 

A hole that no amount of alcohol or sleepless nights spent in the training corners punching and old bag so he could drown his guilt, could fix, no matter how hard he tried.

“I have to go!” he kept yelling-frantically, loudly, desperately-like a madman. 

He struggled so hard, he just made his wounds bleed even more and at the back of his mind, though he didn’t really feel like admitting it, Miller knew that part of these actions were on purpose. 

Bellamy was great at beating himself up to a point that was frighteningly suicidal.

Marching through the forest with a wound like his just so he could get to Clarke proved his point. 

Seeing him like this-tossing and turning, yelling and sputtering, his hair drenched in blood because he hit his head when he fell in the woods and still kept crawling to get to his princess, almost made Miller envious.

Anyone who cared about someone like Bellamy did for Clarke, would be the luckiest person on the planet.

“We need to restrain him!” Jackson who was called by Abby, came rushing in with four pieces of old red rope, made from belts from the drop ship.

“No way! You’re not tying him up!” Miller finally finds his voice and all heads turn in his direction as he keeps struggling to keep Bellamy’s legs down. and ignoring his screams or the awful noise his body produced whenever it struggled against the cot. “We’re not in Mount Weather. Not anymore. He made sure of that!”

“Well I’m open to suggestions cause he’ll bleed to death unless we do something” Abby barks while he keeps yelling. 

“Just knock him out” Octavia suggests.

“He won’t stop moving, he’s just making himself bleed harder!” Abby who’s struggling to fill a syringe with something sedative, or so Miller hopes, barks back.

“Let me go! She’s in danger!” oblivious to their conversation he kept struggling, he was hitting his body so hard against the bed, that his head bounced on the metal board and that caused him to yelp and everyone else to simultaneously drop the respective limb they were holding.

“Stop it, just stop! Stop trying to trap him!” Miller orders and when their hands who were reaching to get a hold of Bellamy again, freeze and all heads turn to him watching curiously in his direction, he comes to Bellamy’s left side and puts his hand on his shoulders.

He’s sitting, just barely and when he meets his eyes Miller knows he’s on the brink of unconsciousness.

“Hey, hey, Bellamy, look at me” he begs. 

Bellamy’s eyes barely focus on his but for a second there, a miraculous second, he stops fighting them. Either his limbs got numb and tired or more possibly, he has lost so much blood he’s half lucid.

A grunt escapes his lips and he swings but Miller doesn’t miss the way he mumbles Clarke’s name and looks around hopelessly as if waiting for her to come bursting through the door any minute. 

A look he knew so well as he caught him staring at the gates countless of times during the three months she was gone. He’d always wait for her and though he was angry at her for leaving, he’d forgive her and want to protect her no matter what.

He wanted to do it even now, in this state and if they let him, if they’d never caught him in the forest, he would’ve ended up dead on the cold ground.

Briefly Miller wondered how Clarke would react if that had happened. 

Holding her down like they were doing to him up until a few moments, would’ve been impossible. 

She would’ve raged hell on earth, he knows, he’s seen it once, early on their drop ship days when Bellamy came home hurt after falling in a Trikru trap and split his head opened much like he had now and dislocated his shoulder so badly his arm hung loosely in a crooked unnatural way for weeks after.

She was so worried that after patching him up she made Miller describe the place, went there herself, murdered a grounder hiding in the trees and scared two others to death, before closing the trap herself. 

She dug her hands in the cold hard ground, grabbed the soil and tossed it in the hole.

Miller found her when her nails were covered in blood, all broken and blue and she looked like a wild animal, ready to attack any second. 

He helped her close the trap and then brought her home.

“He needs his friend more than he needs someone to avenge him right now.” he had told her then. Clarke’s head hung low in shame and she let him take her to the water tank and help wash her hands and face.

Now he had to do the same. 

“Listen, hey-you hear me?” he taps his cheek a bit and Bellamy’s deep brown eyes finds his “We’ll find her, okay? Monty and I, we’ll go after her right away. We’ll leave now get her before dawn, I promise.”

Bellamy swallows hard and Miller can see him fighting with himself, something inside him feeling desperate to just rage every war his body still can, get free of the hands holding him down, this room, this camp and just get out there to find Clarke.

“Bell-” Octavia’s voice and her hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing it gently must tip things in his favor though.

“I’ll go with them too.” she promises and just as Bellamy reaches out to grab her hand his eyes roll to the back of his head and he passes out on the cot shaking violently.

“What’s happening?” Octavia yells and Abby’s hands shoot for his neck.

“His heart rate’s dropping. We need to get him to surgery now!”

It all happens too fast after that-they watch him being rolled away, then being pushed off medbay for making too much noise. 

Miller insists on going now, like he promised, but Kane doesn’t want to let him go. It’s too dangerous he says and Miller doesn’t give a shit about it-he’d decided to sneak out later that night on his own. 

And he surely would’ve, had it not been for the fact that news came from Polis-Clarke was alive and as far as the grounder messenger claimed-well, though it’s been made clear she wasn’t allowed to leave her room.

A summit was to be held two days from now and a skaikru delegation had to be send so they, together with Clarke, would negotiate a peace treaty.  
Miller volunteered right away which of course in turn made Kane roll his eyes, but he still acknowledged him with a curt nod, deciding that he’d spend less time just agreeing to taking him than refusing to.

Bellamy’s stubbornness must’ve rubbed off somewhat and the thought made Miller smile as he leaned his head on the cold metal wall.

All four of them-Kane, Monty, Octavia and himself have been waiting for hours outside medbay for any news. A few of the nurses-a young twenty some year old brunette called Natalia and an old generation one who was a bad ass called Mira, passed by a couple of times carrying vials of medicine or blood bags.

No matter how hard they tried to pry anything out of them, they would barely spare them a glance and when at last Octavia stood in nurse Mira’s way after four hours of waiting, she was cut off faster than the younger Blake could ask her question.

“If you want your brother to live, you’ll let me do my job.”

“Octavia-” Kane put his hand on her shoulder and carefully pulled her to the side. 

“He’ll be okay, he’s a tough bastard.” Miller says but even though he wanted to be supportive his voice came out quiet and a bit shaky. 

He almost cursed himself for not being able to be the leader both Bellamy and Clarke always were. No matter the cost, they always found strength in themselves to take care of them and right now when Bellamy needed him, Miller was failing.

He got his chance to fix things an hour later, though, when Abby came out, her scrubs covered in blood, her hands shakily taking off her cap. Immediately they all sprang on their feet at the same time and showered her with questions.

“He’s stable” she raises her voice after moving her hands up to make them quiet which made Miller feel bad for her “At least for now.”

“What does that mean?” Octavia takes a step forward as if ready to fight except there was no war to be waged now and the sword usually strapped on her back or the knives hidden in her boots would do nothing to save her brother.  
“It means he’s still not out of the woods.” Miller feels as if the air’s sucked out of his lungs, his heart beating loudly in his chest “He lost a lot of blood.”

“So give him more!”

“Octavia!” Monty scolds mildly and comes on her other side 

“I did, the thing is if he was on the Ark, he would’ve died. I spend twice the rationing I would on another patient.”

“But we are _NOT_ on the Ark anymore, are we? So give him more!” the younger Blake kept persisting, teeth bare, eyes wide, like a wild animal ready to attack.

“We can donate if he needs it.” always the diplomat Kane tries to ease the tension and Abby nods.

“Can we see him? Is he awake?” Miller felt as if Octavia would’ve burst through the doors half an hour ago if she could instead of wasting her time with empty words. 

“He is and if he could’ve, he would’ve been out of here in minutes but thankfully he’s too weak. He wants to see Miller first actually.” 

“Me?” Miller asks confused after a beat in which everyone looked at him as if he’d stabbed Bellamy himself.

“He asked me about Clarke.” a quiet “Of course he did” escapes Octavia’s lips before she clenches her jaw in anger. 

It was common knowledge that after Clarke left and Bellamy took the self-destructive path of sleepless nights, skipped meals and overworking himself to death, she was no fan of hers. 

“He knows about the summit and he wants to talk to you.”

Again all eyes end up on Miller so he tries to play it as cool as he can. 

Clarke was gone, Bellamy was hurt, he needed to step up. Abby and Kane may be in charge but the delinquents were the most unified group in camp-they stuck together through thick and thin and he had to represent them, show that unwavering strength, that unshaken composure.

So he nods and Abby takes him inside. They first walk through the dim-lightened narrow hallway of the improvised medbay. 

The original one from the Ark, didn’t survive the crash, so they had to turn an old Factory storage room into a medical facility. 

Bellamy had helped with that too, Miller remembers now. He moved the cots, found the mattresses, stitched the holes in the blankets that they’ve found, moved boxes of medicine and equipment. 

Now that he thinks about it, almost every new thing around camp carried the touch of Bellamy Blake. He helped build the smoke house, climbed on the metal wreck to help Raven patch up the ship so that the compartments inside didn’t leak during storms, plowed the ground in the east perimeter, helping Monty with the seeds, went outside hunting, worked on a plan with the engineers for a water system and started putting the grounds of it. 

He might be half-alive, hell, he might die, but he’d still keep on living everywhere around them.

That’s a legacy to admire. 

There are a few other patients inside but Bellamy’s been placed on the far right corner so as to give him more privacy as his condition was a serious one. 

When Miller sees him lying there, his head wrapped in a tight white bandage, the right side of his torso blue and bruised and his self covered up with a light orange blanket, he stops dead in his tracks. 

But it’s the paleness of his face, his barely opened eyelids, the cuts on his face and the pain he was clearly in judging from the way he was clenching his jaw, that actually steal Miller’s breath. 

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Abby squeezes Miller’s shoulder in support before pulling the curtain up around the bed again and Miller tentatively takes a step forward.

“Hey, man.” he greets him and for a second there he thinks that Bellamy doesn’t recognize him or doesn’t know what he’s even doing here. When he moves his head he groans and he swallows hard, squeezing his eyes before opening them up and trying to focus on him. “You asked for me.”

He barely nods and moves to the right, giving him some space to sit on the cot next to him. Though he’s afraid he might be causing him even more pain, Miller doesn’t want to argue with Bellamy so he carefully sits by and takes his limp hand in his. 

His fingers are cold but he still squeezes it tightly, wishing life into him.

“Thanks for coming.” he utters and his voice is so weak and barely audible that a shiver runs down Miller’s spine.

“You know I always will, brother.” and he means it. 

To him Bellamy was like a brother, he’s always taken care of him, taught him how to shoot, how to hunt, how to help around camp but most of all-he cared. 

He’d take the time to sit by the fire and ask how he was doing, listen to his absurd stories about stealing things on the Ark without getting caught, held him tight when he cried about his boyfriend or missed his father.

That’s what separated Bellamy from any other leader.

He gave a damn fuck. 

“What can I do for you?”

“You going to the summit?” it seems like he’s putting every effort into not just staying awake but talking too.

“I am.” and then Bellamy squeezes his hand hard obviously undergoing some kind of pain before he tries to speak up again.Miller decides to make it easier for him.  
“What do you want me to tell her?”

He’s no fool. He’s seen Bellamy and Clarke around camp, spend too many nights planning battles or construction work around them-the stolen glances, the hidden touches, the almost barely expressed signs of love could’ve made a stranger believe they are just friends but he knew better. 

Hell, all of the delinquents did-they loved each other. They just needed to get over it and do something before either one of them sacrificed for the sake of the other and died like it almost happened today.

“Nothing.” the answer surprises him and he can’t help but let his mouth fall open a bit. Bellamy smiles just barely at that and closes his eyes for a second before facing him again “Just keep her safe. I don’t want her to know I’m…the way I am.”

“And if she asks?” 

He knows Clarke Griffin. The first thing out of her mouth when she saw him would be Bellamy’s name much like hers was when he woke up after the surgery, or at least according to Abby.

“Then lie. Tell her the cut was superficial, that I’m all good but I was benched from Kane for defying his orders.” 

Miller shakes his head in disbelief but Bellamy’s grip on his hand tightens just barely. 

He really seems to be hanging onto a thread just like he was just a few hours ago when he was still bleeding from every cut he had.

“Please…I need you to do this.”

“Okay.” he agrees reluctantly but gives him a sad smile.

“And if I die, I need you to-”

“You’re not dying!” he could take a message to Clarke, lie to her even, but talking about Belalmy’s death was a whole other thing.

“If I die” he insists and for a second there Miller sees the same stubborn spark he saw in Octavia a minute ago “There’s an old copy of the Iliad in my room” he struggles to breathe but he forces himself to “Top shelf, above the bed. There are letters inside for Clarke….and my sister.”

“Bellamy-”

“Just promise!”

He sighs, knowing full well he never could fight with him.

“I promise.” Bellamy smiles and finally relaxes back into the pillows, his hand in Miller’s slacked, barely holding on, his eyelids drooping but still he persists.  
“You need to make sure the kids have everything too-Monisha needs a new jacket and Nimue doesn’t have shoes. Sterling skips lunch and Henry likes to gamble, so you need to keep it in check.”

“I know, Bell, I know.” but still he keeps on talking until his eyes close and his head falls to the side. Miller’s eyes fall on the machine measuring his heartbeat, beeping loudly but irregularly. 

He squeezes his hand one more time and exits the room, knowing that if he stayed another minute, he might not make it without weeping like a kid in front of everyone. 

Damn Bellamy Blake and his big heart that was split in a hundred pieces. 

* * *

Clarke’s first question when she sees the skaikru delegation is predictably, about Bellamy which makes almost everyone who are close enough to the two of them exchange knowing smiles. 

Still, they let Miller handle it, leaving them alone by the rover and surprisingly Clarke believes it when he explains Bellamy’s fine but has just been benched by Kane. 

Two days later, however, when Miller’s driving Clarke to a nearby Trikru village where Lexa wanted to put a start to the peace treaty between skaikru and the grounders with a big celebratory dinner, the rover radio chimes in and Octavia’s voice cackles through the speaker so loudly that Miller’s not too fast to snatch the radio away and cut her off before she speaks up.

“Miller, come in, Bell’s awake and wants to talk to you.”

Clarke catches up onto Octavia’s worried voice right away and her head snaps to Miller before he can even reach to get the radio.

“What’s wrong?” he refuses to face her, eyes focused on the road ahead but he does swallow hard.

Shit…she caught him.

“What the fuck is wrong, Miller? What does she mean he’s awake?”

“Okay, calm down.” apparently trying to be the diplomat was not the right call because Clarke tenses and sits up straight in her seat.

“Pull over.”

“Clarke, we need to be there by dawn-”

“I said pull over!” 

Knowing he doesn’t have a choice he finds a good spot where the road widens and turns the engine off.

“Miller, are you there? I don’t know how much he’ll be able to keep up before passing out again. Come in!” Octavia’s voice once again cackles on the radio and this time Clarke reaches for it.

Fortunately, he’s faster than her.

“Give me a second, I’m driving.” he responds before releasing the button and facing a very furious Clarke. 

Now he sees that Bellamy was right to call her princess-she was one, but not the need-you-to-save me type. The raging wars, burning castles down, killing everyone in her path one.

And right now he was scared shitless of her.

“You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“Find out what? Is he hurt? What’s wrong?’”

“The stab wound…we found him trying to crawl his way to you-bleeding out, his head split open. We dragged him home barely alive.”

“But I thought you said it was superficial, that he was fine.” her voice loses its initial strength and he notices her fingers digging in the rover’s seat as if trying desperately to hold onto something.

He wants to reach out and cover it with hers but…

Honestly she’s still too damn pissed, he knows better than to try and comfort her.

“That’s what he wanted you to think, Clarke” he looks down ashamed of himself, never meaning to snap at her like this, never wanting to sound angry but goddamn it those two really pissed him off sometimes. Clarke sinks in her seat, bottom lip trembling but before she can ask her next question he speaks up again 

“He was still not out of the woods before we left. When I talked to Jackson yesterday he said he was doing better but then the wound god infected because of course it’s our damn luck.”

“You lied to me.” the realization hits her and she lifts her head to face him again “He made you lie to me.”

“It wasn’t my favorite thing, trust me.” he’s glad that she understands where he’s coming from and she is the one to reach out and touch his hand, squeeze it tightly before going back to being angry.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“No, you’re going to talk to him.”

“That damn idiot, how could he do this, I’m-, he-he never should’ve tried to find me, he never should’ve-”

“You know we’re talking about Bellamy, right? He’d do anything for you.” 

He’s surprised when that produces a blush out of her that’s there and gone for mere seconds before the radio cackles again and Octavia’s voice sounds more and more annoyed. He is about the squeeze the button and respond when Clarke’s hand shots to him and stops him.

“Take me home.”

“Clarke, no! You need to be at that dinner tonight.”

He should’ve known that trying to reason with her is pointless and yet he does it.

“I don’t give a damn about a stupid dinner, take me home.”

He’s too smart to argue with her, knowing it will do nothing to change her mind so he tries to pick up the radio again and tell Octavia he’s on his way home with 

Clarke when she covers his hand once again.

“Don’t tell them.” he meets her eyes yet again and he sees clearly what she means by this. If he told Bellamy Clarke is coming home he’d try to stop it, he’d insist she keeps on insuring the treaty, would lie that he’s fine and there’s no need when clearly, he was still sick and in pain.

They’d waste more time yelling at each other instead of actually talking to one another.

He sighs.

“One day, both of you are going to take me to the sea, let me lie on the beach while you bring me fresh fish and cocktails and fan me with a big old leaf.”

This cracks a smile out of her.

“Deal”

“Bellamy, come in. It’s Miller.” he speaks up and when Clarke hears his voice he doesn’t miss the way her eyes well with tears. 

They exchange a few platitudes, Bellamy promises he’s okay though he sounds really tired and sleepy, they can both hear Octavia’s grunts whenever he attempts at assuring Miller that all is good and he tries very hard not to imagine him in the damn cot, shaking and pale as the sheets under him, thinking, despite everything of their people and their well being.

“Is Clarke okay?” he asks at the end and Miller looks at her but she has her head in her hands and judging by the looks of it she’s trying hard to hold it together.

“She’s good. The peace treaty is going fine. We’ll soon be home.”

“You remember what you promised me,right? Keep her safe.” Clarke’s body jerks up and she claps her mouth with her hand so as not to produce a sound. 

He can see how much she wants to speak up-maybe yell at him, tell him he’s an ass, scold him, made him regret he’s ever been born. For a moment Miller’s transported back to the dropship and the days they’d go around camp yelling at each other, jabbing fingers in their chests, hair tossing in every direction, hands raised in the air and it almost, almost makes him smile. 

“You know I am” for a second there Miller’s voice almost breaks but he manages to cover it up before Bellamy can figure out something’s wrong “But she’s pretty good at it herself so she makes my job easy.” Bellamy chuckles briefly at that.

“I knew she only gave me a hard time.” there’s some shuffling on the other end and Bellamy coughs and they can hear Octavia scold him about something and picking the radio up. 

“Hey, Bellamy” Miller says knowing that they have to cut it off soon “Hold on man, okay?”

But he never responds. There’s more noise from the other end and Octavia says something they can’t really make out before the radio goes silent.

Clarke and Miller exchange a look before he turns the engine on and drives off-this time making a sharp turn at the end of the road and heading home where he knows they both belong.

* * *

They make it to Arkadia by dawn. Miller doesn’t know what he’s expecting when they enter medbay but somewhere deep down he had this stupid picture in his mind that he’ll find Bellamy awake and arguing with the nurses or Octavia, or refusing to eat or pulling up a fight and trying to get up on his own, or anything Bellamy of the sort.

But instead, they find him asleep in bed, a fever caused by the infection raging through him, shivering under a pile of blankets with Octavia sitting on a metal chair next to him and holding his hand.

Miller tells himself that this is better-at least he’s not as pale as he was before but the redness of his cheeks is unnatural and nurse Mira who was checking on his vitals seemed even grumpier than usually. 

Octavia’s surprised to find them there but hugs Miller right away, keeping him in her arms a bit more than necessarily. 

She’s definitely not happy having Clarke here but a part of her must know that Bellamy would want her there so she doesn’t fight it but she doesn’t say much of anything either.

“How’s he doing?” 

Clarke breaks the silence first. She’s been staring at his lifeless figure for a few minutes now while Miller and Octavia hugged.

“Bad.” the younger sibling’s voice is curt and cold. She’s angry at Clarke and maybe she has a right to be though Miller doesn’t want to get involved in this fight in particular. 

“He was doing a bit better when the wound got infected. Your mom and Jackson are giving him antibiotics but…so far he’s not responding as well as they thought he should be.”

“Why?” it’s Miller’s turn to express his confusion.

“That’s a good question.” Octavia doesn’t move her eyes from Clarke’s. “He’s not strong enough to fight it. He’s spend months not eating or sleeping enough, he lost weight, overworked himself, drove himself to the ground, he’s weakened.”

She doesn’t say it out loud but the accusation is floating in the air.

_“It’s you. You’re the reason this is happening. You broke my brother.”_

Octavia doesn’t speak but her eyes staring angrily at Clarke, her jaw clenched, her hands fisted at her side were speaking louder than any words could. 

“Can you two give us a second?” Clarke asks her voice steady and since Miller sees Octavia is reluctant to leave her brother behind, he uses the moment to put his hand on her shoulder and lead her outside.

Before he can leave, however, when Octavia’s already out the door, Clarke calls his name and runs to him. He’s surprised when she throws herself in his embrace and holds him tight.

“Thanks for everything, Nate.” he briefly hugs her back, feeling a bit awkward knowing that hugs and touches are more hers and Bellamy’s thing but it also feels good so he lets her kiss his cheek before she goes back to Bellamy’s bed.

He scratches the back of his head and hopes that her being back home would be enough for Bellamy to start fighting for his life again.  


* * *

Once she’s left alone she lingers by the edge of the bed for a few minutes, just taking him in.

It’s a lot, even for her and she’s seen so much blood in her short life that maybe she shouldn’t be as stunned. 

Still…her hand trembles and she feels her eyes well with tears.

First she busies herself checking his chart, the machine measuring his blood pressure and heartbeat, she even reads the label of the antibiotics they’re pouring into him just so she could prolong the inevitable.

Finally she sits by his side and carefully touches his hand.

He’s warm. 

She remembers him radiating heat when enveloping her in her arms, his breath fanning her ear when she sheepishly, almost shamefully knocked on his door late at night unable to sleep and he moved away on his cot to give her space before pulling her to his chest. 

But this is different. Unnatural.

She’s afraid to see him open his eyes, scared that she’ll find them lifeless but at the same time his chest rises and falls, proving to her that he’s still here, with her, that he’s still alive.

Despite the fever raging through him, despite his infected leg, despite the big bandage on his head and the cuts on his face. 

He’s here.  
She swallows down the guilt she feels. Refuses to let the voice in her head that practically screams _**“HE’S HERE BECAUSE OF YOU!”**_ take over. 

Instead she brushes away the curls from his forehead and cups his cheek. 

Knowing how much he needs rest now, she almost feels bad for waking him up but then again she can’t take another second without hearing his voice.

“Bell” she calls his name gently and he stirs but doesn’t open his eyes right away “Bell, wake up.” her thumb brushes his cheek and his eyelids flutter.

At first he doesn’t seem to recognize her, his eyes are dizzy and her heart leaps when she realizes that it is with pain. 

They must be low on painkillers, she thinks and she hates herself even more for disturbing his peaceful moment. 

“Clarke?” his voice cracks, it’s barely audible and he swallows hard as if even breathing hurts. “Am I dreaming again?” his voice is soaked with a different kind of pain. 

One that no broken bone or infection or gaping wounds could ever do and she squeezes his hand tight trying hard not to look away.

“No. I’m here.”

That makes his eyes snap wide open and he moves under the pile of blankets they’ve thrown over him. He’s almost sitting up groaning with every action before she puts her hand on his chest and pulls him down.

(She briefly registers the beating of his heart and finally, finally she lets herself exhale.)

“What the hell? You’re supposed to be in Polis.”

“Lie down you’ll hurt yourself.” she scolds mildly as he keeps trying to fight her but he must be really weak because his body practically collapses back on the pillows.

He’s heaving, struggling to pull air in his lungs and she remembers Miller telling her he broke two of his ribs and bruised another two while trying to chase her.

The **idiot.**

“Before you try to get out of this bed and kill Miller like I know you wan’t to, don’t! It’s not his fault. I found out by accident.”

He clenches his jaw and looks away as if embarrassed that she could still read him so well.

“I’m still killing him.” 

“No you’re not. He did the right thing and frankly, I can’t believe you wanted to hide it from me.”

“You didn’t need any distractions. You were keeping our people safe, negotiating.”

“Stop trying to sound so damn logical, it doesn’t suit you.” he smiles at that and finally he intertwines his fingers with hers and squeezes her hand back. 

For a second he closes his eyes as if trying to gather enough strength in him to stay awake and talk to her. 

“And you must know that you’ve always been more than a distraction to me.”

She hates how small her voice sounds and his eyes snap at hers again. She sees anger flash in them and she doesn’t blame him for going to the same moment she did in her mind.

“Is that so?”

“Bellamy-” she feels herself practically breathe guilt at this point “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not contacting you, for not asking how you are, for letting you carry the burden of it all on your own.”

He just looks at her for a minute and his eyes fill with tears, it gets to be so much she feels like she’ll forget how to blink and then a lonely tear escapes her eye and falls down on their joined hands.

They both shiver.

“I was so angry.” he finally says and his voice breaks while her head falls for a minute before he squeezes her hand again “I was just so goddamn mad at first.”

“Bellamy”

“No, let me finish.” he struggles to breathe again and she can clearly see in how much pain he is but she knows better than to fight him right now “I did it all wrong. I punched my fists in the metal walls of my room, I threw myself in work, I snapped at the kids instead of actually taking care of them…I” he struggles before he finally spits it out “God, I missed you so much, Clarke.”

And that is what breaks them.

She’s not sure if he tugs her hand and pulls her closer or if she just throws herself in his embrace on her own but she ends up on his chest and he’s hugging her as best as he can.

They cry. She soaks his shirt and she can feel his own tears on her forehead, then her lips find his cheek and kiss it while he touches her forehead with his.  
Everything about them is soft despite the pain around them. 

A thousand I’m _Sorry's_ and _I’m here now's_ spill out of her while he holds her. 

“Stop it, princess.” he says gently when she pulls away and he carefully puts a lose blond strand behind her ear “I’m not mad, not anymore.”

“But you’re not fighting for yourself either.” she scolds carefully furrowing her eyebrows at him moving away to make room for her on the bed. 

His skin is warm to the touch and he seems like he’s about to pass out any minute but he looks at her like she’s holding the stars and he’s desperate to reach them and take them for her.

“I’m fine.” Of course he brushes it off.

“You almost died.” For me, she thinks, but doesn’t have the courage to say out loud. 

He chooses the moment to close his eyes and pull her closer instead, struggling to get the pile of blankets over her body and god does she want to kill him for always putting her first. 

She helps him out and rests her head on the pillows instead of his chest so she can look at him better. 

“I need you to fight now, Bell.” 

He turns his head to her and he looks so soft, so sleepy, so damn tired it both scares her and makes her wish she could give him all the peace in the world because he goddamn deserves it.

“I’m tired.” he admits instead and her heart leaps.

“I know. So am I.” at that he smiles and leans closer, his nose touching hers

His eyes are glassy but full of love and his hand moves up, reaching to find hers. She makes it easy, taking it and intertwining their fingers together again.

“Bellamy, I-” something stops her. She knows what she wants to say and yet she chokes on it. He must know, she thinks, he has to know. “I-”

“You don’t have to say it, princess.” he makes it easy for her, he always does.

“I have to.”

“No” he shakes his head with a soft smile “You don’t. Not today at least.” his hand ends up on her neck and he pulls her head to his chest. “One day…in another place, another life maybe…other circumstances, then who knows.”

She wants to tell him that she wants that other life now, she wants them somewhere out, maybe by the sea, building cabins, washing all the blood on their hands in the ocean or at least trying to, she wants him chasing her, picking her up. 

She wants to belly laugh so hard the sky shatters, she wants his arms pulled up, her tickling him, then running her fingers through his curls as they settle down on the shore and let the waves beat their feet up giving them that same sense of punishing them for all their mistakes and then ebbing away with their sins. 

After, she wants them counting the stars, hearing his voice tell ancient stories, wrapping her up in a towel, carrying her home, making fire.

She wants it all. Now. Not one day. Not in another universe.

“I need you to fight.” she says again her fingers spread on his cheek like a starfish that one day she’ll catch for him and carry around while he runs away scared with the kids laughing the background.

Maybe none of it will happen.

None of her dreams of water and hot shores and soft sun rays stroking her cheeks will ever come true.

Maybe she’s not deserving of it.

Or maybe she is?

She’s so equally afraid of both possibilities that she almost misses his quiet answer.

“Okay.”

Her eyes snap open but he’s already dozing off. 

Miller finds them a few hours later like this-intertwined in one another, holding each other as if their lives depended on it.

Next day when Bellamy’s fever goes down, Abby calls it a miracle.

Miller smiles and calls it Clarke.

He doesn’t know yet that years later, Bellamy and Clarke will fulfill their promise and take him to the beach. 

Not only him but all the kids.

He has no idea how hard it is to build homes in the sandy ground, nor does he have any idea he’ll grow to love fish with time despite hating it first.

But most of all, he doesn’t know yet, that he’ll get to see and live the day, where he’s lying on the beach on a nice wooden chair, with Clarke bringing him a cocktail and Bellamy fanning him with a big old leaf while the other delinquents around them laugh and try to memorize the picture of their two leaders owning up to acting like idiots.


End file.
